#im left handed so i tend to draw right to left

[amourninghost]

panel redraws

[killjoy-prince]

A kiss from Death

[satoruhour]

gojo nuttin in you and plugging you up!!!!

a/n: request: “I’m sure you’ve probably done something about it but the way that the idea of gojo coming in you and pulling your panties up after is so IRBDJEHDBEBSBNS makes my brain numb no thoughts off the walls feral” + so im combining these two! uhm. horny devil took over me while writing

warnings: fem!reader, reader is deep in sub-space, semi-public sex, multiple rounds, pet names, calls you ‘slut’, unprotected sex, creampie / breeding kink, lots of cum, n*sfw under the cut

no one really knew where this breeding kink of gojo had come around, not when he was the student talking about how annoying kids were and then got blessed with megumi and tsumiki.

he’d like to think that it wasn’t because he wanted to see little yous and hims running around the house. sure, it definitely was in his future plan, but with everything going on it would be too chaotic, so he’s willing to wait. it unveils itself to him one night after cumming deep in you; it related more to his possessiveness over you—

it rings true when he’s got you riding him in his office chair, the pleasure of his cock deep in you overtaking the discomfort in your thighs. you’ve been holding back for the longest time in the meeting with the higher-ups and the other sorcerers, unable to stop your glances toward your boyfriend while they talked of another emerging curse user.

you jumped him as soon as the meeting was over.

“f . . fuck, baby,” gojo’s breathless as he says it, a thumb to your clit and drawing languid circles. it only prompts your pussy to clench around him and your head falls down to your connected bodies. “hear how sloppy your fuckin’ cunt is, sweets.”

you can both hear and see it, see the drag of your pussy along his length and the pleasurable stretch of your walls around him. your hands go around his neck to play with his hair, messing with the abandoned blindfold resting along his clavicle.

“were you this wet for m-me, for the whole meeting?”

your scrunched up eyes struggle to open as you meet his blue ones, a choked yeah leaves your lips as you continue to bounce on him. there’s sweat lining both your bodies from the clothes still inhabiting your persons, slowly getting soiled from your juices, too.

“oh, baby, you know i would’ve dropped everything to fuck you then and there—” satoru grits his teeth when you tighten around him again and you moan out loud at the words he says. you’re not even sure whether you came, thighs shaking from your mini orgasm that you limp forward into your boyfriend’s arms.

gojo coos into your hair, doing the work now as he fucks into your spent body. the slap of his balls against your ass is obscene, whining into your ears before he starts to rut in short little thrusts again. “cumming— cu—”

gojo’s eyes squeeze shut, hiding his forehead in your neck as he spills deep in you. a deep groan reverberates from his throat, feeling his cum feel you up spurt after spurt and you’re the same, mewling softly beside his ear that only gets him hard again.

“that’s right, take all my cum, baby.” gojo mumbles, drunk on the feel of your pussy before he remembers he has a class to get to.

“you gonna keep my cum in you?” he asks breathlessly, a little softer than he expected to. but his heart soars when you nod obediently, letting him help you put your other leg into your panties. his cum still threatens to spill out, but it’s still better with the fabric barrier.

gojo is disgusting like that, “i’ll see you at home, alright?” he taps your butt playfully, landing a sloppy kiss to your lips and indulges you with a few more pecks.

that one feeling hasn’t left him since the afternoon, determined to pump you full again that he couldn’t even conduct a class properly. all he wanted to do was to rush back to you, with a sweet reward granted to him.

you were so dazed from his cock that you decided it wouldn’t hurt to put on your favourite set under your clothes, tending to your own errands as you wait for your boyfriend to return. so when you’re welcoming him with more touches than usual and a sultry voice to match, he knows he wasn’t the only one with that creampie on his mind.

you aren’t sure what round you’re on by now, pussy feeling so slick and full from how much he’s cummed in you that your mind is fuzzy and muddled.

“like it when i breed you, hm?” he slams into you from above, bed creaking from just how rough he was being. he’s got your body pressed deep into the sheets and your ass up and as usual, he’s got your back arching uncomfortably.

“y— yeah, yeah, s’much, ’toru!” you whine into your hands, feeling your orgasm approach again as you feel like you’re driven to your limit everytime and yet you come back for more. gojo is quick to cum again, cock stilling in you as he pumps you yet again and the sight is so messy.

your ass and pussy is painted with white and gojo grins seeing your hole push out his seed. he purses his lips, scooping up his cum and pushing it back in. and then he’s got you on him again, thrusting into you from below. the strings of his cum stick to your pelvis, paired with your cum pooling at the base of his cock. it’s so sticky and lewd, the squelching sounds of pussy.

“can never get e-enough, of pumping you full, princess.” you groan into thin air, juices spraying everywhere from the sheer amount of it.

“love it— wan’ more, pleasepleaseplease.” you’re out of your mind, driven into oblivion and you think that this truly was your limit, sobbing out your lover’s name when he starts to rub circles along your clit and you’re squirting, hips bucking away from the overstimulation and you grab onto his forearms like a vice.

“good little slut . . mh, squirting all over my cock— s-shit—” you’re cumming so much he can feel it on his thighs, soaking his skin and sheets. the grip you have on his cock is insane, making him so difficult to move that he grunts and stammers, pelvis faltering with a twitch to his dick.

“going to— give you another load, baby.” he mumbles breathlessly, giving one last deep thrust that has your eyes rolling back into your skull and body trembling and you’re so deep into sub-space that you just let him manhandle you roughly. satoru’s hips snap up into you impatiently before he’s cumming deep again, mind turned into mush once ropes and ropes of cum is pushed into your womb. you feel so full, so dumbed down that you don’t notice him scrambling for something in the bedside table.

“got your slutty pussy somethin’,” he whispers. the first pull out of gojo’s cock is gross, a translucent sheen of white covering his shaft from how much he’s cummed in you before he removes himself completely. you gasp at the emptiness, sinking behind into his embrace before you feel full again.

a cute little toy takes the place of his cock, a baby blue plug that is stuffed deep in you and possessiveness is starting to turn into wanting to get you knocked up. gojo isn’t sure any more.

your boyfriend prompts you to look down, caressing your thighs as he hums into your ears and you shiver lightly.

“need you to keep every last drop — can you do that, baby?” you feel him smile against your lips when you turn your head to kiss him, an affirmative response muttered against his lips together with a confession.

tagging @hyomagiri @jabamin @shotorus @satohruu :3

[joannasteez]

to the victors, go the spoils

pairing: cody rhodes x black reader x jey uso

summary/warning/authors note: after the win at fastlane, cody finds himself along with jey at your house, in your bed, enjoying the benefits of being champions. | you know what time it is, im givin smut but its always gon come with some description. explicit at that so minors dni! my first time writing them both so go easy on me ;) slowly becoming a cody girl >>>>

word count: 4.7k

text message | outgoing: nice match. great win. 

text message | cody rhodes: can the victor have his spoils?

text message | outgoing: if he plays nice, yes. 

text message | cody rhodes: i have a friend taggin' along, hows that for nice? 

text message | outgoing: sounds like fun

a small creeping shudder to your skin, this taunting twist of excitement and anticipation. you could feel, see even, from the dimly lit living room where you sat, that slow spreading smile of satisfaction he wore often. or rather, as often as you saw him. both ring side and bed side, cody rhodes, the one they called the american nightmare, had this subtly to him. this dapperness that caught your eye and the draw of your breath. he donned himself in suits and dressed his words in a similar likeness, but was never shy to dirty himself for the fun of it. 

it wasn't often that you saw him, but when he rolled through indiana for a match, he made his way, without fail, to your place. to see you. to talk, to touch, to kiss. to have his fill of fun before begrudgingly leaving. the smallest of pouts tainting his lips before leaving your door, and it's what you craved the most. the idea that you were too good to stay away from, too good to leave. he was a man of business, and you'd slowly, with time, made yourself apart of his business. something he'd need to tend to in an effort to keep close. 

he was patient and clever. at times devious. soft and sweet. always thinking of the next thing to leave you wondering. kind of something like now, as shea butter smooths over fine from hand to thrilled skin. who could his friend be? 

but jey uso feels the same way that you do, left to roam in a clueless sort of excitement. he's sobered enough to control his thoughts, his words less slurry than the way they were at the press conference. but his blood still rushes, and his head swims, this dull light rocking. like the pull in of morning waves. he wonders what you look like, how sweet your voice could be, and there it goes, a tingling in his fingers. his pants, the place right where his dick sits, half hard and almost ready. sounds like fun, your message had read, brief and not leaving much to the imagination. but he figured, if cody had driven so far away from the arena, then you were worth it. 

and "fuck me", the smallest mumble from jey's lips when you open the door to let them in. a champagne silk robe and even silkier looking skin. warm and brown under soft dim light. and that voice? a sly "hey", coyness there but still easy going. a damn angel. it was worth it. 

the tension in the silence is palpable. worthy of a knife. eyes cutting to and from. who'd say what and make the first move when. you pull the door wider, allowing them in, ignoring the heat of cody's blue eyes, deciding to take jey in instead. 

"when cody said a friend, i didn't think he'd be the main event".

jey's head tilts, turning to let his eyes fall everywhere it could. your face, the peak of cleavage, the painted baby pink of your toes. the sultry atmosphere of the house. you were prepared it seemed. his ego having no choice but to bloom. threatening to burst. "you a fan?" 

you shrug, a feigning of disinterest, but the warmth pooling your belly says different. because jey isn't all that shy about checking you out, curious eyes taking this slow trailing over the smaller details, looking, you assumed for the things he liked. and the space is thin between the two of you, taking his jacket, cologne heady. a gravitating thing. and to him you smell sweet, expensive. 

"i watch casually". 

and cody smiles at his genius, easing further into your house. reveling with comfortable steps at the short fused tension building between you and his new tag team partner. you're all but on your knees for jey and he's just only made it through the door."casual my ass. she knows every bit of my entrance music. word for damn word.

your eyes roll playful. hesitating to leave jey briefly before following cody to take his suit jacket."fuck you rhodes".

he mumbles a"you will", before needy hands pull you in, and the seam of his lips push into yours for a more than subtle kiss. tongue following after, smooth and controlling. you'd found in your times with him that a drink or two made him less patient. less willing to follow through with subtlety. he bit gentle and caressed with tough fingers that spurred on a sure to harshen pound that found its way to the crux of your thighs. he was buzzed maybe, but not nearly as drunk as he was at that conference. cheeks not as red and eyes not as glazed. you liked him like this, present enough to follow well through with his teasing. 

and as his lips break from yours, taking on the skin at your neck, your nails run through blonde hair. eyes looking for jey whose already moving closer. 

cody at your ear. "i missed you", suckling gentle just below your ear. "missed you so much i bought a friend for you to play with". 

"you're so good to me", a moan of sarcasm, pulling from him to grab jey. your steps setting off for the living room. 

cody disappears into a hallway, small bag in hand. his voice carrying on. "be nice. i'll be back".

the blunt you'd been pulling from before they came finds its way from an ash tray back between your fingers. but jey grabs easy at the lighter in time to hold it up for you. the spark just at the tip of it warm. you pull, a soft hallow of your cheeks that makes him wonder about other things, before the full inhale. you offer him the blunt and he takes it. touch faint enough that it urges the skin for more. 

"what's your poison jey?" he keeps the blunt between his fingers, feeding you the end to pull again. the smoke making for more heady air. "i've been told i mix drinks good". 

"nah i'm good right now". his eyes fixed on the fullness of your lips. "not tryna fuck around and over do it". 

you point over to the couch, watching his legs set wide and inviting as he sits. ending the burn of the blunt, you walk about the living room. loving the way his arms fall over the tops of the fine leather. he's settled in. that's good, you think.

"how you know cody?" 

"i'm a chef", you started. twisting the switch of another lamp not too far away to see more of his pretty face. "met him a while back at one of my restaurants". 

"oh yeah? one of?" a palm smoothening over the thick hair at his beard. eyeing your legs as you draw closer. "you got it like that?" 

"of course". 

just in front of him you pull the knot of your robe to reveal baby pink lace, and he stops with everything not to hiss with want. but waits instead, your body slotting over him to straddle his thighs. humming with a deep sigh as the nails of your fingers run down the broad width of his chest, before lifting to take purchase at the nape of his neck where the blue of his mullet sits. the hair curling and silky to the touch. cody a slight after thought as you push your lips in to ghost over jey's. this slow faint ride as you speak. 

"i like your eyes. they speak for you". 

"what they sayin?"

and it's what you expect the kiss to be, despite the tension, the heady way need pulses about skin and short lasting clever touch. until now of course, his hands more sure, spread wide and warm at your thighs. gentlemanly enough to kiss with patience, to test the taste of your lips before the slow roll in of tongue, and fuck, its a soft thickness. a deviously low groaning from his chest bleeding into where you hold at his cheeks, as he rushes in for more. 

jey builds as the seconds pour one into the other, his kiss a good sort of sloppy that makes your hips rut and your brain numb, but his hands, as big and damaging as they can be, don't grip too tight. caution like a weight, stifling the more vicious sort of pulling and prying you ache for. 

a whimper sounds from your throat , your hips grinding into his, needy for friction. "touch me how you want. i won't break". breathy but assured. 

and it's all he needs before his fingers grow hard and sharp into supple skin. something like the screwing in of nails. at your thighs, your ass, nearly ripping the stitch of the lace, till he's holding tight at your breast. lips dragging kisses over the ways of your neck, tongue peaking to taste as he goes, till they slip over wet, firm, your nipples tight as he swirls. another one of his moans stretching slow through your skin till it hits nerve. 

your hips work desperate more than anything, the texture of his jeans against the crotchless opening pushing at your slit. as he sucks, licks sloppy enough that his spit drips, you feel yourself growing messy. pussy wet and seeping on the less than soft fabric, on him.

and jey notices, of-fucking-course he notices. smirking devious at the way you fall apart on him already. another swat to already hot skin that makes you throb and hiss. "makin' a fuckin mess on me already". 

"just means i like you", smirking with him even in your haze. your fingers a comb through his hair as you bring him back to suck at you. missing the feeling already. 

and the way you get lost in him is easy. as he grabs and pulls and pinches. licks and kisses. 

footsteps a steady padding behind you, till they stop, and then your head is pulling back unhurried by a hand at your throat. the touch not jey's but demanding all the same. your eyes dim in their pleasure but open enough still to make out cody's face. his sharp features rounding out some at the edges of his jaw as he smiles. 

"open for me sweetheart".

and your lips part, tongue stretching out till you feel his spit drip at it. a satisfied hum strumming  your ears as he bends to peck your mouth. fingers squeezing at your throat to accompany the sensation of jey teasing his teeth at your nipples. sharp pullings that force out moans more broken than whole. 

"i think she's ready for more", cody announces. blue eyes glazing over with this fine layer of lust as he trails slow over you. 

and that giddy way your nerves had split and reformed, splitting to come together again, over and over, after reading cody's text messages, has turned now into something new as your body dips soft into the bed, awaiting more of whatever they have for you. this steady rushing in your blood, frenzied and never ending. and they stare you down in this connected way, hunters after prey, toothy grins and lusty eyes as they guide your body. thighs snugging in jey's head and your knees nailed into the cushion of the bed, his tongue dipping into the soaked mess of your pussy as you attempt to settle into sitting on his face. 

and cody, all lean muscle and fire in the icy blue of his eyes, licking rough into your mouth to take advantage of the sloppy moving your lips take to return his kisses. your own head swimming, high off of the ache twisting at your core from the way jey sucks at your needy clit. his tongue moving, no where near desperate, but eager, determined to drive you to madness. and you like the toughness of them both, the harsher touches and grips to the skin, so when he swats hard at your ass again and feels you drip in his mouth, he groans satisfied. excited. 

his palm comes down, again and again, breaking pleasure into thick skin till you whimper and shiver, lips suckling sweet all the same.

you hiss at the stinging, waiting for that inevitable sinking in of heat as jey caresses where he strikes. something like a gentle storm every time he meets your flesh. harsh and soothing all the same, with these slip ins of pleasure, tongue flat and licking broad at your slit. 

a laugh bristles your skin, just at your forehead, hands trembling and useless as they attempt to pull away cody's pants. you whine, pleading, and he takes a minute from his amusement to do away with the rest of his clothes, springing up hard and warm against your skin. 

another spank rips into raw skin, and you feel the ripple of it at your clit. coaxes your eyes to roll. 

cody thinks he's never seen you so taken by pleasure. ardor sweet off your skin. your touch warm and firm as you fix yourself to stroking the deep pink of his tip. a grunt toppling from him as you let spit string out wet and lazy from between kiss swollen lips. "so damn pretty", he huffs. savoring the slow pull in you take of his cock. 

and your tongue is all silk and gentle touch. a warmth he's missed since his last visit to indiana. but he's patient about getting what he wants, pulls up a foot to sit on the bed for better steadying and lets you work him at a leisure pass. one of his hands unrelenting as it swats at your thigh. "you like a little pain, don't you angel?", voice rasped and a bit dazed. 

"yes", feathered and faint. 

heat overflowing in your cheeks, hips rutting at the flat lay of jey's tongue. a thick finger finding its way to slip into you as you grind wild at him. chasing the release that comes after the vicious knotting in your core. and the sound of the room is lewd, silence burdened by the soft squelch of tongues and the urgent push in of warm taut fingers. jey lavishes you like the taste is heaven sent. something once in a lifetime. like one moment away from the soaked mess of you will do him in to an endless suffering. and for as much as it's worth, your palm grips as the other digs into the sheets, to press in a squeeze against the weight of cody's balls. mouth a sweet suck at the harsh reddened tip of him. 

your words reach out as nothing more than a breath. a quick "oh fuck", that badly sums up the building of tension. hips nearly smothering jey as cody takes your mouth to kiss, a hand at your neck again, swallowing moans and that faithful ability to breathe. the throb in your spine grows ruthless and the spasm of your clit nearly splits your ears. vision blurred as you fight for composure amongst the rage of release. 

the room taking this lax spin, their eagerness driving them to lay you down easy. your legs spreading despite the ache. moaning soft and satisfied, blissed as fingers slip gentle through your slit with a slight shake. simply to savor and prolong even the rush in your blood. a delicate fondling to spread your lower lips, peeling back to reveal, like the prettiest flowers in bloom. the grin pulling along your lips a gentle teasing seduction. and of course the mere way you play with yourself  doesn't compare to jey, that slow thick push in, his strokes measured but yours sloppy, ministrations drunk off the heat of hungry gazes. 

but it's not hard, getting lost in you. your taste, skin supple and balmy. so easy to hold, to melt into. it's no wonder cody travels so far when he's here. jey would to, wants to after this, but even the thought of leaving is a disappointing one. he just wants to stay here, watch you work your way into delirium. wants to help you get there even, losing the rest of his clothes and bringing himself back to you till his knees sink into the bed.

you meet him, your eyes to his. moaning excited, the heaviness of him taking a steady slip over your slit. "pictures last longer"

he doesn't rush. leans his palm into the back of your thigh to spread you more. "Mhmm", leaning down to kiss you, tongue sweeping through for good measure. "Keep talkin' that shit". 

you comb through the blue of his mullet, savoring his mouth, before letting him go. "it's ok to be a fan y'know?" cody brings himself just at your side, thumbs taking to caressing the taut sensitive twist of your nipples. mouth taking purchase at that place just below you ear that seems to be home for him. you cradle him close, senses on the verge of being driven to overstimulation. "cody has me used to the attention". 

"m' sure he does", and jey gets why, every inch of you leaving his blood to rush fast and loose, tipsy off just the idea of digging into you. the fat tip of his dick pushing patient at you, a steady press of his hips, almost reverential in the way he lets you pull him in. inch by sweet inch. "you feel too good not to pay attention to". fire in his fingers, imprinting into the memory of your muscles an ache that only comes otherwise in the most lucid of dreams. you feel, as your lip suffers from the bite of your teeth, that this is once in a lifetime. the stretch, the look of him, your skin being this endless playground for kisses, for men to roam and adore, and fuck, you're sure he's nearly split you to fit. wet still but warm and hugging. but it drives him just as crazy, hips rutting with a mind of their own, seeking pleasure fast, despite his wants to draw out the pleasure. "you holdin' me tight like you been needin' me huh?" 

you whine. "jey". stunned. overwhelmed. pleading "please", but for what you don't know. you just need it.

he can't help but laugh. and it's deep and full of ego. cody joining, warm breath fighting its way under damp skin.  

jey moves only slightly, lifting your leg and shifting to sink deeper.  your back curling with a throb, forcing your breast to push further into cody's mouth. the cruelest, sweetest, chain reaction. 

he huffs, pulls his hips away just enough to tease his tip at the tight ring of your entrance, and the stretch feels new once again, and then again still, good and splitting as nerve breaks and cleaves open. raw and tender to the touch. 

"i get in this pussy and you go speechless".

"shit", whiny. 

"c'mon mama, talk that shit", finding a rhythm, a tempo. something steady enough that it feels too good. so much so that your nails fall at where he meets you to push him away. a miserable try and fail at quelling pleasure. "stay with me baby", voice satin smooth. "m' right here. stay with me". not wanting you to escape him. not without what he'd come all this way for, not without what you needed. 

with a lazy pop of his lips, teeth driving sharp but faint at a taut sensitive nipple, cody traces deft. intention clever as he covers the course of your body, down pass your navel till your clits held swollen and throbbing in between his fingers. he pinches firm, till he gets the moan that he's looking for. the one that drags and whines, stresses out in pleasure so much that it dresses itself as pained. but he knows you well, enough to know that you can take a little plain, a little bite with your bliss. because it only makes your wetter, more pliant. 

and the swell of release is easier to coax out now, a mere snap at your core that hitches breath and spasm's your bones. it'd been something a little more put together before, these sweet drops of arousal at his tongue as you rutted and worked yourself to finish. but now it was something messy. uninhibited and wild. a lusty flood that coats him in a soft creamy white. jey lurches, his hips taking to uncontrolled thrust, moving mindless and raw. deeper to bed himself in the tight vice of you. 

it's addicting, words slurring, running away from him. "goddamn girl, you feel so fucking- fuck!... so good". 

and he thinks he doesn't want to leave, watching you melt into the fine thread of bed sheets. blissed out and breathing heavy. splayed and vulnerable, like some delicate, fierce painting. cody continuing a steady onslaught at your clit. you whine and shiver, high off thrill as your fingertips dig behind the meat of your thighs to keep your legs opened for him. needy still for the fill of him. arousal a mess that leeks its way to the bedsheets. and jey thinks, that when he's good and through, he'll dip his tongue back in you, have you come undone again off his touch till the sun breaks against the horizon. you'll do then as you do now, unraveling untamed as you come, moaning and writhing till you're nothing but a thing to chant his name. 

you'll praise him, tell him how good he is, how good you want to be for him. it'll resound, faithful and messy. slurred by pleasure as you go dumb from the deep pound of his dick. you'll be like what you are now, the perfect spoil for a champion. 

jey feels his core knot up, a twisted burn that scorches out to every inch that he can feel, till he's twitching violent and coming hard. the mess he's made leaking slow, a warm pooling out that he strokes back in. just enough to feel you throb for him one more time.

jey moves then, after he catches his breath, commits the daze of your eyes to memory and settles for watching the break of cody's trim demeanor. this meticulous sort of care for his disposition done away with, once he's had you in his arms. and though cody has abandoned his suits and ties on plenty of occasions to scrap and rumble with men twice his size, only you in recent times, have seen the softness under the shell of him. 

jey takes to laying lazy at the head of the bed, your mouth just inches away from the messy slick you'd made of his dick, as cody pushes a deep arch into your spine. every inch he touches is every inch that throbs with a pulse and with heat. an ache that threatens a breaking, but really its just that beautiful burn of muscle. the blooming of a flame that eats at tension and the hesitancy that comes with distance, because cody had longed for you for some time. to slip his skin against yours, till you'd grown mute from satiation. 

he throbs at the thought even, to feel you tremble about him the way you'd done so messily for jey already, his eyes a cold blue but still scorched with need the way he bares down on you. a stare that fights into your skin, makes you clit flutter with anticipation. 

cody groans, stroking himself. "spread for me angel", and you do just that. face dug into the sheets just inches away from the inner part of jey's thigh, nails pulling at your ass till your lower lips spread. you clench and unclench, again and again, anticipating, and then you moan needy, mindless, cody tapping his tip at the fat of your clit. "there you go", raspy and praising, before he slips easy into the mess of you. grin forming small through his perfect teeth, satisfied. feeling at home. 

and he takes his time, takes the place of your hands as he holds to keep you spread, mesmerized by the wet strokes he gives against the soft pull of your pussy. fucked already, but needing to be fucked still. and he loved these things about you, the width of your wants and that insatiable streak of fulfilling them.

your lips reach for jey, wet kisses at his thigh till you reach to dip your tongue at his slick tip. tasting the mess you'd made together. a fine back and forth between a sweet suckling and these little delicate kitten licks. and he lets you do as you please, enjoying the gentle attention. caressing your jaw even as you move about him. eyes dim and delirious. 

"he made of mess of you, huh sweetheart?", his hips moving deft. ears pricked hot and twitching at the sound of his every stroke. a salacious soaked smacking that drives him further, deeper, till he's buried to the hilt. 

cody throbs warm in you as he takes you. mouth trembly as you give him a not so simple "yeah", your hips pushing to fuck on him. 

and it's not so simple because your nerves continue to split and grow more raw by the second. overstimulated but somehow wanting more. begging filthy and impatient. 

but he meets the demand, guiding you by the nape of your neck till you're upright, knees wider and burying further into the sheets. his hands form harsh against your breast, pinching and pulling to his content, breath erratic at your ear as he fucks you seemingly deeper than before. pussy a dewy mess, his dick nudging and persistent to feel you drool and spasm for him.

and he kisses at your exposed shoulder, hips a ways away from brutal but his lips bloom at your damp skin in gentle ways that leave you feeling drunk. his tongue and teeth licking and nipping, moaning at the tight cling of you. cody revels in the ways that plains of your skin mold into his. a balmy, tender, pressing in that forces his heart to flutter and his mind to numb. grow delirious with thoughts and ideas not so amorous, that lend themselves to a seriousness that comes with sobered talks and resolute feelings. 

you lay forward again, face nudging into the sheets. jey's eyes a sharp focus at your face, at your mouth as it opens, jaw dropped some in a silent euphoria. his hand pulling at his dick with simple lazy strokes. feeling a slow to form stir as he watches cody fuck you. 

"fuck i-", you attempt to speak, the knot in your gut threatening to burst at the seams. "right there, please". 

and cody obliges, steady's his rhythm to something that builds the both of you to bliss, the knock of his hips coaxing you to drip more. your slit dewy and slick as a finger rolls over the twitch of your clit. 

"such nice, pretty manners when you wanna come", he groans, chuckling wry in a dazed sort of amusement. because he knows you, knows the patterns of your pleasure and your needs. the things you say and how you say them, when you tease and when you beg. how your precision grows weak at the feel of an assured touch. his hand swatting quick, the flesh at your ass rippling, the grip of your heat growing tighter, letting him know you're just near release. on the brink of it actually. 

"give it to me, come in me". rushed and whiny. breath short. 

"oh...shit!"

cody's waist snaps. pounds out as you come undone and spasm hard. a feverish shake in your legs as you pull all strength in you to roll your hips into him till he falls into a wild take of bliss. the hard thrumming in his blood spreading till his chest pounds and his fingers twitch. his spend dripping warm as it seeps out. and in his daze, he rubs his thumb through it to soothe over your clit, prolonging the throb there.

"fuck thats so good. thank you", a soft whimper into the tear stains of the sheets. fluttering still but sated. your sayings slurred and brain dizzy in the thrill of release. 

[dailyhatsune]

hi! not exactly a request but i do wanna ask, whats your process when you're rendering more paint like art? (if that makes sense, English isnt my first language so apologies hdskhsjdbd) i really love how you use the colors and im curious how you do it :0

i’ve been meaning to answer this one for a while so here’s how i painted miku in today’s post (put under the read more because yeah prepare for a long post

i’d also like to preface this by saying that i never follow a set way of doing things, so in terms of what my personal process is like, these are only broad strokes of what i do! sometimes i’ll combine or skip parts entirely, depending on how i feel. also, this is not a tutorial, just how i do things, so please don’t treat it like one :’D this will read like the ‘how to draw an owl’ picture if you do

first, like every artist, i sketch. more specifically, i’m getting an idea of what i want to paint later on. this could be how a scene is set up or in this case, how a character is posed. here i’m not concerned about details or getting everything perfectly, i’m only planning how the thing will be composed. maybe a lot of canvas size changing, or adjusting what miku’s doing (note how busted miku’s right hand looks from all the transforming!) however, i still have to be concerned with how clear the sketch will be to future me, because the sketch won’t be any good if i can’t read what miku’s doing

after that, i lay down a flat gray under the sketch, mainly focusing on giving miku a clear silhouette. this is also a good time to make adjustments to the composition on the fly if i suddenly feel like something can be improved upon, like shortening miku’s left arm from the sketch!

after painting a flat silhouette, i start shading in grayscale, focusing only on lighting. i usually do it in two passes, one for the lightest and darkest tones i’ll use (not black and white) and then a second for midtones to blend them better with the base gray but i forgot to screenshot the result of the first pass 🗿 nevertheless, here is where i can start adding some amount of details. i’m not including any extra accessories yet, just focusing on the base design of the outfit and the character herself (for anyone wanting to draw characters from That Gacha Game, this is how i personally make the process more bearable for myself.) i still use the dark gray to separate where certain details (like the facial features and fingers) begin and end, mainly to make colouring more bearable later.

now here’s where i get the Good Colours. it’s a cheat lol. i put a gradient map layer over the grayscale painting so that there’s a little bit of color to start. some gradient maps can be applied as is, some need the layer settings adjusted to make it look good. this one, for example, is a (free) gradient map set from the csp assets store that needs you to set the layer opacity to 20% and to set the blending mode to color to achieve this result. in general, i tend to pick which gradient map i want to use based on vibes, or basically whether i want the work to be warmer or cooler, colour-wise. but this does do quite a bit of lifting for the colors in my stuff.

and then, finally, i add the colours. i add flat base colours in an overlay layer. at this stage, i’ve made the character silhouette clear enough that i don’t need to refer to the sketch anymore for what miku looks like. also, the gradient map layer does its magic by making the shading a bit more vibrant than it would’ve been without it. after that i paint over with a new layer to add details like the lace.

and then i put some extra shading on top. basically this is where the ‘better lighting’ happens. again, this isn’t a tutorial, so i’m not here to say what each part of the lighting is, but i’ve labeled which layers do which job. in other works where the lighting within a scene is more defined (from a window, from a small crack in the walls, etc) the glow dodge layer may be more opaque and sharper, but since this isn’t a work with that, the lighting was applied using an airbrush. the linear burn layer is also there to make the whole thing darker so the glow dodge doesn’t end up oversaturating miku. i also usually match the lights to the vibe i want, and use a complementary color for the shadows. so here you can see i have warm colors on the glow dodge layer, but light purple on both the linear burn and multiply layer.

and that’s it for the character—here’s a gif showing how each layer adds to miku! (sorry it’s so toasty)

as for the background, depending on the complexity, it may go through a similar process, or if i can settle with flat image backgrounds, i just go for that. it’s ok to use external image materials. i didn’t have a background in mind for this miku in specific, so i got some default csp materials and threw together something

and that’s about a rough overview of what my process for more finished works looks like! again, art is a fluid process so i never specifically stick to certain steps all the time, and you shouldn’t either. i can probably answer why i’d pick this colour over another in one particular work, but it’s something that kinda has to be learned on a grander scale. i think everyone can already feel what colors work with what atmosphere or what setting, even if they can’t immediately explain why. colors and composition do take some level of experimentation to find what works best!

[melonsharks]

Tell us everything about the parent trap au immediately please please please

to give u an insanely quick rundown with a wip art i have:

aziraphale as elizabeth. wedding dress designer under his pen name A.Z. Fell. (hes an artist as confirmed in s2 and the whole "drawing on napkins" thing elizabeth would do appeals to me immensely)

crowley as nick. owns a vineyard. I NEED HIM TO OWN A VINEYARD SO BAD. shoutout to Old Vines on ao3 for changing me in a fundamental way. he makes wines and he tends to the vines and he is so passionate about it to an abusurdist degree. he yells at his vines when they arent growing right. you already knowwww.

when they meet for the first time, they don’t meet on a boat like in the movie, they actually meet at a wedding party :J crowley was a wine collector, just starting out. he loved offering aziraphale samplings of his most vintage collection out of impulse. (he likes seeing the way aziraphale savors them) (he’s besotted) Wants to own his own vineyard one day. aziraphale, on the other hand, has dreams of becoming a fashion designer of sorts, always drawing ideas on any scraps of paper he can find. his designs are very old fashioned, but thats like… part of the appeal. his work very much reflects who he is, and the people who flock to it understand that.

they enter this kind of… whirlwind relationship, they get married, and then eventually adopt two golden haired blue eyed baby boys. twins. :J warlock and adam.

they break things off because aziraphale leaves... alluding to their recent breakup in season two, the reason he left was because "we both clearly had very different ideas on where our lives were going. so. i packed up and left." (parallel s2 divorce 😋 they don’t know how to talk to each other) (aziraphale throws a book at his head after this argument, like the hairdryer in the movie LOL. it was pride and prejudice. crowley still has it.)

aziraphale leaves with adam. warlock is left with crowley. crowley eventually leaves London because he finds he cant stand being anywhere near Aziraphale (hes just irresistible in that way), and he goes to California where he finally fulfills his dream of owning a vineyard. a nice one on Napa, Northern California.

Aziraphale’s wedding dresses become more and more well known, Adam grows well-adjusted. Same kid you know from the show and book, natural born leader, a good head on his shoulders. (Aziraphale has no idea why Adam is like that, but he is so proud)

Crowley’s vineyard (The Garden Of Eden) grows and grows… Warlock is spoiled rotten, but he does love actually working at the vineyard with Crowley to and he and Crowley have a really good relationship…

Eventually the kids go to a summer camp together in London (i dont know if they . do this in the UK, but suspend your disbelief if you will) Adam meets The Them there, then meets Warlock after a nutty fencing thing, they kind of hate each other at first and the rest is history :J

side characters UM. LOL. idk……. i mean i kind of know but not really? theres just so many possibilities that make the rounds in my head. chessy could be anathema OR nina (ive had people suggest eric too?) and martin could be newt OR maggie (ive also had people suggest muriel????) gestures vaguely.

as for meredith…….erm…………🤷‍♂️ ive had everything under the sun suggested to me and i still……have no idea. LOL. gabriel, lucifer, shaX, FURFUR, THE WIFE FROM THE NON-SPOILER SPOILERS. I DONT KNOW. IT ALL FEELS WRONG. its hard to come up with this role in particular when these gay bitches literally only have eyes for each other. always. forever. u know. i think lucy is like. the classic answer. but idfk.

ask me about . more things if u want. this is consuming my every thought.

anyways the cover im working on for. for something:

[yanyanfeii]

tending to his wounds

cw: spoilers for dendro archon quest, scaramouche real name, sub scaramouche, dom gn reader, scara receiving, NSFW BELOW!!!

synopsis: you recuse him after the fall, healing his wounds and tending to his other desires ;)

you watch as the “false god” falls quickly from his broken creation. stripped of his gnosis, his heart, he closed his eyes in defeat as he accepted the idea of death. the stone beneath him clouds in smoke as he hits the ground, to his surpise he remains concious, alive. he curses the fact not even death would welcome him. 

you quickly ran over to the ruble, tearing past the travler who stood shoked as Nahida outstreched her arm to stop them from chasing after you. You pant heavily, hands grabbing at the broken stones, throwing them aside as you desperately search for him. you feel a sense of urgency, you had met him before he turned, before he came a shell of himself. your hands ached as the sharp cold tile scraped and tore at your flesh. 

soft breathes moves the gravel from his chest, you lifted up a larger piece of the debre, reviling the one known as kunikuzushi. his eyes were halflidded, staring up, icy and cold. your hand out streched and tugged on his arm. like a puppet he motionless gave into your strenth, sitting up ,head hanging low. “Kunikuzushi.” you utter in fear. you had never seen him like this, a complete devoid of life. “what.” he rasped lowly, it was soft like a whisper on the wind but as heartless as the stone surronding him. you bit your lip, watching his unmoving body. “are you okay?” a stupid question really, but nothing else came to mind that sounded right. 

he laughed airily, though it didnt spring from happiness. the type of laugh that dances the line of insanity from pain. “am i alright?” he repeats almost mockingly, even in such a state he still had the energy to be sarcastic. “im wonderful, stripped of my heart, denied my one true purpose. why would i not be alright.” his shoulders draw up and he shakes his head ever so slightly. your growing frown deepens, your hand reaching out to place itself on top of his hand. he stiffens, eyes darting up to find yours. “what the hell do you think youre doing?” you muster up a smile. “laughing at my defeat? came to rub it in, throw me in a cell? do your worst.” his vocie is laced with venom as his violet eyes darken.

you shake your head. “i was trying to be a friend.” his eyes widen. “a friend? how huomorous.” your brows furrow in mild frustration, he wasnt making this easy. you move closer, sitting down beside him and like a snake he practically recoils away. “i want to help you, you know.” he makes ‘tch’ sound looking up at his broken robot. “i dont need it.” 

all of a sudden his head feels heavy, the room feels like its spinning.. maybe the effects of the fall took awhile to sink in. Scaramouche finds himself groaning softly in pain. ‘i am a weakling’ he repeats in his mind, hand drawing up to craddle his aching head. His back aches where the break from the tubes were left, death would be a releif. his distress does not go unnoticed and you quickly hold him up in support. the purple haired man huffed in protest, too weak to protest. 

your arms slowly wrap around his frail body and you pull him closer top your chest. his attempts to escape you are short. you close your eyes placing your hands on his back begining to heal his wounds. not many people knew you as a healer, something you didnt tend to share. but in this moment you could tell just how much he needed this. slowly the ache starts to lesson, his body warms at your healing touch. his breathing grows more steady as he rests his head on your shoulder and gives in to your touch. 

you smile softly as you can almost feel life returning to his body. melting into your touch like puty. the feeling of another touch, a soft touch filled with care was something unfamiliar and like a drug he couldnt get enough. he sighed deeply nuzzling into your embrace.

you pulled back slightly to get a better view of the man before you, the look in his eyes was pitiful. you leaned in pressing your lips against his, he may not remember you but you remember him. this, something you only dreamed of doing, now realizing how close knocked you threw your inhibitions aside. his eyes flew open, face blooming red as his hands weakly place on your shoulders in a attempt to push you off.

your hand cups his cheek as you press your tongue past his lips, forcing it into his mouth. he whimpers, letting his eyes fall closed. his brows furrow as your other hand tenderly trails down his chest going lower and lower. he shivers against your touch as you pull him closer. your tongues swirl together as you devore his baited breathes. “st-stop.” Kuni moans against your lips, head tilting back, your hand gently rubbing at the fabric of his pants.

his pleas fall on deaf ears, and you feel him grow harder under your fingertips. “they’re gonna hea-hear.” he groans, your hand slipping under the waistband of his shorts, fingers brushing against his pulsing cock.

you loved the sinful sounds that crawled out of his throat, the power he gave you. your hand gently stroked his dick, feeling the warmth of precum fill your palm. his breaths catch in his lungs, biting his lip in a feeble attempt to conceal his moans. “does it feel good?” you tease, voice laced with honey as you nibble on the shell of his flushed ear.

he quickly nods, brows furrowed and hair sticking to his forehead. you take his dick between your hand, rubbing his slit with your thumb. chocking out a moan his hips buck upwards, and his shaking hands grab your face pulling you against his lips. your face flushes at the unexpected forwardness, you feel your legs clench together.

you breath out a moan against his lips, sucking on his bottom lip delicately. your hand moves faster, pumping his cock with rhythmic pase. he cries into your mouth, hips shuttering as he continues to buck into your hand like a dog in heat. “please don’t stop!” you smirk against his lips, hand clenching around the base of his dick.

feeling it twitch in your hand, dripping with precum. he lets out another loud moan, pushing up against you as he comes. your hand continues to caress him, coaxing him through his orgasm. his utters breathless moans, falling forward against your body.

his head on your shoulder, he pants. your hand pulls out from his shorts, and you stare at the mess of cum coating your fingers. you kiss the top of his head. “you did so good.” you praise hearing him sigh happily against your neck.

scooping him up in your arms, you flee the scene. no doubt the traveler heard all that and was just to stunned to do anything. ;)

an: not proofread, hope it’s alright🤍

[aspiring-house-husband]

“good thing i’m immune to hypnosis, right?” you say, your face messy with saliva and slick. 

“of course, dear.”

“if i were so impressionable, i’d be incapable of making decisions for myself. i probably wouldn’t have chosen to leave my stressful career, too gripped by what’s expected of me.” 

“mhm.” their fingers tighten in your hair. 

“im not so swayable. i know where i’m happiest, and that’s right here.”

“that’s- that’s right.”

“oh, i’m so sorry, were you about to cum? hold on.” your tongue resumes it’s dutiful work, skillfully bringing them over the edge. you relish in the crush of their thighs around your head.

“what were you…” they’re breathy and panting. “what were you saying, darling?”

“yes, i just know what i’m supposed to be doing, you know? i know what my true calling is. this is much better than anything else i could’ve spent my life doing.”

“is it, love?”

“oh, it’s the best. tending your every whim, seeing you happy, tasting you, letting you do whatever you want to me… i dream of it. i drool for it.”

“do you now?”

“gods, yes.” you feel the truth of it pulling deep at your heart. “when you’re away doing whatever you do, and you’ve left me here all alone to fend for myself, i find myself cleaning and thinking of you. some days i can hardly keep myself from rutting on table corners, thinking about how badly i want to be with you.” 

“remember when you could hardly stand the sight of me?”

“ugh, don’t remind me, i can hardly imagine it. the thought of seeing you in the university lecture i didn’t even really want to be in and not wanting to crawl under your desk and really put my mind to its real purpose. good thing i’m immune to hypnosis, right, or id have never come to my senses.”

“of course, gorgeous.”

“babe, have i ever told you how much i love these tattoos?”

“what, the spirals? the ones inside my hipbones?”

“the very ones. they’re just so sexy, i don’t know. mesmerizing, colorful, and right over some of my favorite places to put my mouth… like whenever i’m in my true place, i get to open my eyes and see such a gorgeous sexy tattoo and i’m reminded how much i adore you.”

“you flatter me, sweetheart.”

you go silent for a moment, staring at those very tattoos. brilliant and colorful and… they almost look like they move. 

“babe, can i..?” you trail off, softly sliding your hands over their hips and to their thighs, so freshly slick with their cum and your spit. 

“sweetheart, not again. i’m way too sensitive- you’ve had me all afternoon.” you pout and whine, playfully, but draw up the drama by nuzzling your face into their thigh like a pleading puppy. 

“oh, don’t be like that,” they whimper, running their fingers through your hair. “not the puppy dog eyes… ugh, maybe i’m the one hypnotized. fine, baby, find your favorite place. just promise you’ll fuck me after, okay?”

“oh, deal,” you say, immediately pulling their calves over your shoulders. you lick and suck dutifully, the flavor of fresh cum making your body sing. they grip into your hair, twitching and jolting and locking your head between their thighs at the oversensation. they whimper and moan, and you feel them arch their back. 

“good thing i’m immune to hypnosis, right?” you say, your face messy with saliva and slick. 

“huh?” they can barely push the word from their heaving chest.

“i wouldn’t be able to suck you off nearly this well if my mind was all foggy, right?”

“right.”

you chuckle and get back to pleasuring them. it’s where you belong. 

[pokeberry5]

do you have any tips for drawing dynamic poses? i always love the way you draw bodies!!

i know this has been said a million times but the way i draw bodies significantly improved after i started drawing more frequently from reference. if i cant find a reference for a pose on the internet, i'll just use myself or a friend. i spend an unfortunate amount of time just standing in front of my mirror looking at my own joints. pay attention to where your body curves!!

other than that though—honestly my anatomy/pose knowledge is a whack amalgamation of art tips i've accumulated over the years (i miss old school deviantart/tumblr style art tutorials). i also like to look at how artists i admire draw bodies—what details to they include, what anatomical short-hands etc

i think i'm still figuring out how to draw dynamic poses, but here are some cheats i've picked up (under the cut coz this got long again):

gonna use this stray!tim as a base

the easiest way for make up a pose is to start roughly with the head, collarbones, ribcage, and pelvis — you can build everything from there

here's a couple more of what i mean by the ribcage-pelvis deconstruction:

2. push your perspective a little!! imo things look more dynamic if you move your sight-line up or down—the horizontal orange line here. if you look at the panels above, the sight lines tend to be a little low, at around the character's torso or waist. i did the same below with stray!tim

to do this i usually try to get a sense of the space im working in by putting in some sloppy perspective grids

3. S curves!!! exaggerate the lines of the body. the body naturally has parallel horizontal lines—an easy way to get a body to look less rigid is to tilt those horizontal lines which in turn curves the vertical line of the body

this is what a mean by horizontal lines—usually i use the eyes, shoulders, and hips:

i'm gonna use caterina as a better example—usually you want the horizontal lines to sort of zigzag:

i've also picked up a couple visual tricks that don't exactly add dynamism to a pose? but they do give a static pose a little more oomph. a lot of this is done by visually highlighting one specific point of the body

for our purposes, i'm gonna make the focal point tim's face

motion blur! there are a couple ways to do this. i actually dont like working with traditional motion blur because you have to mess around with selections, so i usually fake motion blur using postional perspective blur:

2. gradient lighting—you can add a lot of depth this way. usually i like setting the gradient in the direction of the focal point, e.g. tim's face

below, i added a layer above the base drawing, used an airbrush to get this gradient, and then set the layer to color burn and lowered the opacity. you can also clip the lighting layer to the base drawing and set it to multiply

below, i did the opposite—instead of adding a gradient shadow, i added gradient light. i set the layer to add this time (instead of color burn) and then lowered the opacity again.

this kinda serves to desaturate the parts of the piece that are less important (ish i was kinda sloppy here), driving the eye to face—the most saturated. the motion blur does a similar thing, where the only thing "in focus" is tim's face

the gradient also sort of adds a directionality to the piece—it starts at the bottom right corner and goes up towards the upper left, causing your eye to follow that same path, which drags your gaze up tim's body

here's what it looks like when i combine 1 and 2:

3. chromatic aberration's been pretty popular recently. it does a similar thing as perspective blur but with more eyestrain (although i went with a really exaggerated version below just to show you what it does) but it looks cool!

bonus cryptid tim as a reward for getting to the end :-)

[4acoffee]

A voice in the back of his head tells him that he's never cared before exactly how many words a girl says to him, and he promptly tells said voice to shut the fuck up.

pairing. bakugou x reader

word count. 2.8k words

genre & warnings. fluff, pining but he doesn't realize it, baku in some serious denial, swearing (lot's)

notes. jusus FUCKING christ. im SO glad to be done with this you have no idea. It's been in the works for like three months I'm so done with this fic. pls lemme know if u like it if this flops ill cry. also sorry i havn't posted in like forever im a loser i know.

Katsuki Bakugou does not have crushes.

Crushes, were for stupid schoolboys and stupid girls.

Like you.

Yea, — if anyone had a crush, it had to be you. That's why you only smiled at him when he was looking at you. It's why you never tried to make eye-contact with him during class. It's why you never talk to him outside of class, and always walk on the other side of the hallway, and laugh at shitty hair's lame jokes.

There's no way someone like him, would like anyone like you.

Raccoon eyes was an idiot for even putting such an absurd thought in his head.

And it all started because he ran out of those stupid pencils.

Which was those dumbass's fault too. That week, dunce face broke all his pencils trying to do a ghost summoning trick in class and begged him to let him borrow one of his pencils. Which was annoying, but not a big deal because he's Katsuki and he was always fucking prepared.

But then, raccoon eyes lost her shit at the ugly grape fuck during class, and accidentally dissolved her only pencil in a fit of rage. Which meant he lost another one to her.

And then that same week, shitty hair was testing his strength on pencils, snapping them in half with and without his quirk, so he lost five pencils to his useless antics.

So by the time Friday rolled around, he had just one mechanical pencil left to get him through the day. Which would have been fine, ― if he didn't run out of lead right in the middle of fucking English class.

Now, he could have asked the teacher for a pencil, but she was this dusty, old hag, and Katsuki was known in his class for aggravating her to the point where her veins popped out on her face, and she would screech at him like a mad banshee. And Katsuki would rather pull out his own nails and stick them in his eyeballs like push-pins, than face the lecture she would no doubt give him if she found out he had come to class "unprepared".

So now, he was stuck, pissed off at everyone, multiple writing assignments to finish, a professor who never liked him, zero patience, and completely lacking in pencils.

Fuck his life.

And the day would have only gotten worse, if it wasn't for you.

He doesn't know how you knew that he needed a pencil. Then again, since you so clearly liked him, you must have been watching him all the time. You must have seen the miffed look on his face and noticed how he was furiously clicking his pencil for any lead.

Most people who didn't know him personally tended to steer clear of him for the most part. So needless to say, he was mildly surprised when small, quiet, you — tapped his desk with your little ink covered fingers.

You never spoke out much in class, and Katsuki only knew you as the voiceless girl who sat next to him in class and constantly kept at least one earbud in, drawing on your hands or doodling on the corner of your paper when the teacher was talking.

He figured it would be a miracle if you were even passing this class.

But when he turned to you with narrowed eyes, you held his gaze carefully, and held out a new pencil to him.

At first, he's less than pleased, ― Katsuki wasn't gonna just accept help from some random extra.

But you shook the pencil at him, urging him to take it, and he once again meets your eyes, ― long enough to realize that you had to be one of the prettiest girls he's ever met.

Brilliant, and mildly amused, your gaze held a sense of thinly veiled curiosity that peeked through the serene look on your face, the sun peeking out behind you cast small shadows down the curve of your cheeks from your eyelashes and, and ―

― and he had been staring for way to long.

Scowling, he snatched the pencil out of your grasp and turned to his assignment, pretending to read the instructions. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw you curl over your own paper and get back to work.

For the rest of class, he stole small, fleeting glances at your focused form.

He decided that he absolutely hated the way your hair looked glossy and soft in the light filtering through the window. And the way you tapped your foot on the floor to the beat of whatever music you listened to, and the intricate designs you often drew on your hands, slightly smudged where your fingers held your own pencil.

The bell signaling the end of class snapped him out of his stupor and he angrily stood up, sending his chair back with the force and shoving papers in his bag.

He's half way down the hallway to his next class when he realizes he's still holding your pencil.

He stares down at it with a glare and considers throwing it in the trash for a second.

Your face pops in his head for a second, (rather rudely, and unnecessarily if he might add), and he grimaces before shoving it haphazardly somewhere behind him in his bag.

.

The next day, Bakugou stomps over to class, fully restocked with his own pencils.

He sits down in his usual seat and glances at you without thinking. You were reading the board at the front of the class, but you turned your head to him when you felt his gaze on you.

His slouching position immediately straightened at a backbreaking speed like a soldier at attention.

Instantly, he wanted to howitzer himself into the next dimension.

What was he so damn jumpy for??

He fixed you with a defensive glare, like his ears didn't feel so annoyingly hot, "What!? Hah? I don't need your stupid pencils today. " he bit out.

You squinted at him, and his annoyance only heightened when he noticed the way your lips twitched upwards in amusement.

Did you think he was fucking funny or something?

"Ah, ― ok." You replied.

He twitched in his seat as he watched you turn your attention away from him and to something on your phone.

That was it?

That was fucking it?

He accepts your help one time and suddenly you can't spare him more than a fucking two word reply?

A voice in the back of his head tells him that he's never cared before exactly how many words a girl says to him, and he promptly tells said voice to shut the fuck up.

He glowers for the rest of class and makes it a point to not even glance in your general direction.

It works more or less to his favor, until he starts seeing you show up around him and everywhere outside of his class.

The moment he sees your eyes turn in his direction in the hallways, he swivels his head away so fast he nearly gets whiplash from the force.

Your outside after school waiting for a ride and he scowls when you don't even look up at him from your phone when he walks stiffly in front of you.

He catches you make icy hot crack a smile with some stupid joke in the lunch line and he almost combusts into a nuclear explosion on the spot when you ruffle his hair affectionately. How, and why the fuck were you acting so familiar with that damn candy-cane bastard?

The annoying voice in his head from earlier prompts him to go and place himself between the two of you, ― a physical divider, ― but he immediately brushes it off again. He chastises himself for even allowing such ridiculous thoughts enter his head over a useless extra like you.

Unfortunately, Katsuki in time comes to find that you’re not as useless as you seem.

As raccoon-eyes eventually manages to drag you into their tight knit group of friends, he begrudgingly realizes that there is much more to you than just ink covered fingers and pretty eyes.

Your one of the top students at the school. Picking up things easily, you don't pay much attention in school because you prefer to and work better doing things in your own time. You, however, make a horrible teacher, and any attempts to tutor his so called friends into shape, end in more jokes cracked than brains, and it's all too easy for you to dissolve into half giggles and smart remarks with them.

Your also, a little shit, he discovers, much to his chagrin.

"I still can't believe you go to bed at 8:30 like an old man."

The sly gleam of your eye when you join forces with his friends to tease him makes him want to slap his hands directly over your stupid eyes because he hates the way he's so automatically drawn to them.

And that stupid fucking twitch of your lips whenever he speaks to you. Like your trying to hold back a smile. Why the fuck do you do that. The fuck is wrong with you. Just smile like a normal person dammit.

So fucking distracting.

Especially when he began bringing you new, colorful pens for you to draw with for when yours ran out of ink. And the wipes he keeps stored in his bag for the teachers that kept threatening to email your parents if they saw you drawing on yourself during class.

God, you had to be the worst thing that's ever happened to him.

Which he swears is the only thought running through his head as he sits next to you at the library with his chin in his hands.

Definitely nothing having to do with the fading sun weaving through your hair in strands of gold, or the plush of your lips when you bite into them distractedly.

And your godamn eyes. Calm, sweet little almond eyes, so, ― pretty.

(Seriously, when the fuck did he start using words like "pretty").

It takes him a second to sense that said eyes were now focused on him. Unwavering and almost downright pleased in a way that made his hands clam up and saliva build up in his mouth.

"Hey Bakugou, you in there?" You ask cheekily.

He bites back a snarl, "Fuck off, tiny."

You raise your hands in mock surrender. "Ok, Ok, ― just making sure we didn't lose you into the void, you were looking pretty intense there."

"Shuddup I was just thinking."

"About me?"

"No, what the fuck?!" He yells, ignoring the librarian who sent him a stern look from her desk.

You snicker and he almost jolts out of his seat when you scoot your chair way too close to him.

You jostle his feet under the table and he kicked back impulsively. What he wasn't expecting, was for you to purposefully tangle your legs together, pulling yourself to the very edge of your seat.

Suddenly your face is right in front of his and he stiffens when you twist your fingers into the sleeve of his school uniform.

"Aw, you don't like me then?"

He absolutely hates the way he can hear the blood pumping into his ears.

"No, I fucking hate you. You're the worst."

"..."

"Oh."

Suddenly, you turn your eyes away from him and to your lap, lowering your eyebrows. Your lips fall into a deep pout that leaves him wanting to smush your cheeks together in his hands.

You look utterly crestfallen.

"That's kinda mean yunno." You say to him softly. "I really thought you liked me Bakugou."

He blinks at you in alarm.

He wasn't actually expecting you to take him seriously. You never do any other time. You knew there was hardly ever any real malice behind his words to his friends.

Right?

"It's ok if you don't, I understand. But, uh, I'm gonna go home now." You say quietly, without meeting his eyes.

Shit, ― he thought.

Did I, actually go too far?

You remove your fingers from his sleeve and make to grab your things to leave.

He panics, he couldn't let you go like this!

Frantically, he grabs your hand and pulls you close to him.

"The fuck are you talking about?! Are you that stupid?"

You look at him sullenly and try to pull away. He doesn't let go, but stands up to keep you pushed against the table.

Katsuki is reeling at the feeling of your skin under his, but tries to keep himself focused on the situation.

"Of course I fucking like you, dumbass." He nearly growls without looking at you face.

"I always buy you shit and make you food don't I? You think I'd spend my money and time on ya' if I didn't like you." Katsuki says simply.

"Thoughtcha' already knew you were my favorite." He mutters.

He looks up at you and freezes on the spot.

You have the most shit-eating look he's ever seen on your face and he later swears left and right to himself that he spots the slightest flush spreading across your cheeks.

You're goddamn eyes are once again so damn bright and he can barely process anything else with the way you're smiling at him.

"Bakugou,―i'm your favorite?!" You blurt out.

"I knew it! I can't believe I got you to admit it!!" You said horribly happily.

Katsuki stares at you in disbelief. Was that all a fucking act?

Your positively glowing now and Katsuki wants nothing more than to slap himself for falling for your stupid tricks again. How fucking dare you use your goddamn face against him like that. You were just playing with his feelings at this point.

He's about to tear his hand off your arm in a fit of anger when you pause you giggling and suddenly grab him by the collar of his uniform and bring his ear right next to your lips.

"Yunno, ― your my favorite too ok? Don't forget that." You whisper conspiratorially.

Your breath on his skin makes him nearly tremble, and he just knows that you can feel how hot his face his when you press your lips to his cheek in a chaste kiss before pulling away to grab your things and disappear just as quickly.

Katsuki is sure that he probably looks like he just got hit by a truck.

A dazed grin makes it's way onto his face that he desperately tries to hold back, but fails as his fingers brush the spot where your lips just were.

All at once the feeling fades when his eyes meet the absolutely delighted looks of his friends from across the library.

They make all sorts of kissy faces and obscene gestures that has his face looking the same color as his ruby eyes.

He scowls deeply and turns to make his way angrily out of the library.

As he passes a window, he pauses when he catches sight of your figure walking across the campus.

Ink-covered fingers pressed to your lips.

-

If there's one thing most people don't know about Bakugou's friends, it's just how perceptive they really are. Their normally aloof and carefree behavior seems to veil the fact that they are indeed future heroes and they have trained to be finely tuned to each others behavior.

So it didn't take long for them to notice a shift in the actions of their angry blonde buddy.

It took even less time to connect the dots to you.

And naturally, ― they began scheming.

Perhaps not scheming per say, ― as they watched Bakugou zone out in your direction for the nth time that day at the library, Mina smacked Denki over the head one day for using that word.

"We're not scheming anything Denks." she whispered.

"Then why are we whispering?" He muttered back, rubbing his head with a grimace.

She sighed deeply and massaged her temples.

"We just need a way to get him to realize that he's feeling an emotion outside of acute bloodlust and anger for once." she explained.

"So then what, do we like, plot an intervention or something?" Sero supplied.

Mina, for what seemed like the hundredth time that day, with great effort, resisted the urge to send an acid quirk infused slap in his way.

Sensing this, Kirishima was quick to pipe in, "C'mon guys, nothing like that, Bakubro just need a little push in the right direction, is all."

Mina nodded in approval.

"Blasty's smart, he'll understand what needs to be done once he works out his feelings. Hopefully."

A mummer of understanding passed through most of the group.

Sitting up straight and cracking her knuckles, Mina whipped out a pen and piece of paper like a weapon, "Alright boys, don't worry, your girls got just the plan."

Kaminari made a face like he just struck gold.

"Ohhhh! Okay. So we're planning an intervention."

"For FUCKS SAKE―"

masterlist

[akidachi]

wrist update

felt i should probably make another one of these since ive slowly been trying to do more drawing again.

long and short of it is my wrists arent 100% yet, i still have to take more breaks than usual (though my usual was none before so thats probably an improvement) and sometimes i have to just stop halfway through because my hands decide they hate me for the next 3 hours.also pretty consistently left with some minor aches if i go on just a tad too long.

ill probably try to post some art again every now and then (mostly over rendered doodles) but i probably wont be picking commissions back up until im absolutely certain i can manage longer hours consistently again. both because i just dont think i can right now and because i tend to feel bad for posting other things sometimes, even if i cant work properly at present.

as ive said before, i know ive left people hanging for quite a while so if you dont want to commission me anymore when i get to you thats 100% ok.

in the meantime the queue is still closed as i dont want to end up with an even bigger backlog.

thanks for reading, thats all for now!

[persephone11110]

Three Chances

Bradley Bradshaw x Mitchell Reader

Warnings: past parental death, grief, someone dies, past funeral,mention of pneumonia—lung damage surgery ,childhood friends/ex bfs->almost lovers, unintentionally self harm?(bradley takes a scolding hot shower) mentions of catholic religion( in my story i gave a carole a catholic background), medical inaccuracy!!—i am not doctor

Summary: What thats saying again?— death pulls people apart and together. Together, after 10 years plus you and Bradley mends your relationship. Apparently it took death to draw you both back together.. unfortunately you both were to late. or 2 times bradley should’ve told the reader how much he loves her and one time he’s too late.

bradley calls her sunny

unfortunately mav still pulled bradley’s papers

AN: I needed to write a death fic, i honestly can’t help it, also summary sucks, i liked writing a 2+1 fic so im doing it again. also she dies right before the mission— tbh i read somewhere on google that people do typically tend to die from pneumonia if left undetected/untreated. Also also Idk if a nurse has the power to take someone off life support?

1. 1999

It’s hurts hurts, really fucking hurts— the last thing Bradley Bradshaw wanted to do during his summer vacation is bury his mom. The last thing he wanted to do is stand over her casket and say goodbye. He didn’t want to do this again, Bradley’s already done this, thirteen years his dad was the one being buried.

I can’t cry, I wouldn’t cry. Bradley thinks while sliding on his suit without thought, his eyes are raw from spending the last previous hours sobbing into pilliow. He hates how the suits clings to back— sinking into his burnt back. He took a hot scolding shower at midnight, attempting to rid the thoughts of his mothers fragile body , her last words. “I love you Bradley Bradshaw”, even in Carole’s weakened mindset she still recognized her son.

Bradley painfully rolls his shoulders back, memories of the sight of his dead father wasn’t something he needed right now. He’s walking into the church and he’s met with dozens of people yet the only face he can and wants to make out is you. Y/n Mitchell, a.k.a sunny.

He’s touched by many people—shoulder grabs, pats on the back: Uncle Maverick pressing a kiss into the side of his head, and Uncle Ice pulling him into tight hug. But you come from behind him, and tightly grabbing his hand with reassurance makes him teary eyed.

“Hey Sunny” Bradley bites his lips, shoving his emotins back down his throat. “Thanks for coming”.

You nodded solemnly, hating the reason you both were in church together. “Where else would I be Bradshaw”. you gripping his hand with yours.

“Kiddo”, Maverick come back to his godson and daughter— his own eyes red, the veins in his are more apparent you couldn’t tell if was exhaustion or sadness or both. “Hey Y/n”. he smiles sadly at you—the priest is ready when you are Brad”.

“I’m coming Uncle Mav, see you in a bit Sunny”. Bradley tightly grip’s your hand before walking away.

You twisted the rings on your fingers nervously, being a navy brat you’ve gotten accustomed to funerals. But seeing Aunt Carole in a casket wasn’t sight you needed or wanted to see. “Shut up Y/n, this isn’t about you”. you warned yourself, Bradley needs you, dad needs you. a thought rolled through your mind.

Bradley loved his mother to no end, but he’s grateful no asked for him to do the eulogy, he didn’t think anyone wanted to hear him sob in between words, hear him stutter through the whole speech. If he was being honest Bradley didn’t have the heart to do so. He didn’t have the guts to stand next to dead mother casket, spewing loving words about her.

“May Carole Anne Bradshaw rest in peace”.

You slip your hand back into Bradley’s hand.“Chicken”, you whispered into his ear, in return you earn a small smile.

“Sunshine”. he whispers back to you.

He so badly wanted to say something else, maybe the words I love you were to slipping from his lips.

I love Y/n Mitchell.

—

2. 2002

“Bullshit!”. You loved Bradley but ever since Aunt Carole died he gotten more angrier, his temper bubbling up like lava and exploding on everything around him including you. It’s not his fault the death of two parents can and will change someone inevitably, losing and burying your mother the end of freshman year isn’t fun. You just wished he wasn’t taking it out on you too.

“Shit Sunny I’m sorry I didn’t mean to snap at you”, he pulled you into his strong arms.

You step back from the kitchen doorway, after flinching from Bradley yelling you almost drop a box of old pictures.

“Bradley—”.

“Dont even go there with me, you allowed me to fall in love with the idea of flying all for you strip it from me!”. “I trusted you, I loved you how could you do this to me?”.

“You know thats not true”. Maverick tries to get through to him. “Baby Goose”.

“No, No! you don’t get to call me that not ever, and I don’t want your fucking lame ass excuses”. Bradley voice reaches to higher octave. You ponder if you should move in and stop what’s happening but you can’t. Your feet are glued to the floor.

“I fucking hate you!”, he yells, “I don’t what with you and Bradshaws and death— but i’m not dying either”. Your too astonished to move, and much to your dismay your dad doesn’t deny it.

He side steps dad, leaving him alone in the kitchen— leaving him to deal with the impact of his hurtful words.

Tears rapidly fall from your face,“Don’t go Bradshaw”, your voice is wobbly, too much sadness is rising in your throat.

He paused and almost turns around as if he thought about it.“Fuck you and Uncle Mav, why did I ever talk to you Y/n?”. A seconds passes and its all a blur as you watched Bradley leave and his pickup truck backfires.

A sob rips from your mouth, your knees buckled from under you. Your father strong arms instantly wrap around you as you sob into his chest. Your pretty sure this was first time you’ve seen dad cry so openly.

I fucking hate you Y/n Mitchell.

—

3. 2022

“Can you hang on for bit sweetheart?”, Maverick whispers, holding Sunny’s hand. “Bradley not here yet—he needs a chance to say goodbye”

This wasn’t supposed to happen, Maverick Mitchell wasn’t supposed be standing in a hospital with his unconscious daughter infront of him. He wished he could switch places with her.

The surgery was going to help her, it was going to remove the fluid from her lungs. Maverick thought back to when Sunny kept waving off her fluid induced cough.“Dad I’m fine, It’s just a little cough”.

It wasn’t a little cough, it wasn’t a small little cold either. Each and everytime you coughed your chest felt like it was rattling— your practically destroyed your voice from coughing so much.

“Y/n, sweetie don’t you think it’s time to visit a doctor?”, your dad eyebrows furrowed in concern.

“Dad I’m going to be fine, I just need to keep taking medicine and I’ll be good as new in a week or two”.

Y/n wasn’t good as new, her stubborn streak kept her from being treated properly— it took her fainting from her collasped lungs to be in a hospital room.“Y/n what were you thinking?”, Maverick questioned his daughter for the millionth time.

“Captain Mitchell”, a gentle voice pulled him out of his thoughts.“A man by the name of Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw is here as a visitor”.

Maverick hastily wiped the tears from his face, “H-he can come in”.

“Uncle Mav”, Bradley starts— his voice to brittle for his liking.

“Baby Goose”.Maverick murmured and Bradley doesn’t dare and snap at him and tell him he hasn’t been baby goose in over twenty years. He doesn’t have the heart to yell at his griefing uncle— despite how angry he is at Maverick, he knows right now it isn’t the best time to dwell on their differences.

Maverick takes in his godson appearance, his hair is all over the place, purple eyebags under his eyelids— stained tear tracks. The one thing that stood the most out to Maverick was how much guilt was in Bradley’s eyes even in the way he stood.

“Oh God”, Bradley can’t reel in his emotions like he normally does. Too much guilt and anger is eating at him.“Im so sorry Sunny”. Bradley’s words are rolling off his tongue after holding them in for over a decade.

“Brad c’mere”, Maverick gently drops Y/n’s hand back down to her side. “It’s okay Baby Goose”. Maverick pulls Bradley into a hug.

“But Mav, I’ve never apologized to her, I never told her I loved her”. Maverick releases Bradley from his arms.

“Trust me kiddo, she knows— Y/n never faulted you”. Maverick stares at the machine next to him. Maverick knew—he knew Y/n was about to go home. He again let go of her hand and pressed the red button her bed.

The same nurse appears at the door. Bradley catches her name tag—Nurse June. “Captain Mitchell, Lieutenant Bradshaw— are we ready— Is she ready?”

“Yeah she is”. Maverick whispered to her.

“Ok”, Nurse June simply says with a small smile.

Bradley’s sitting on the bed to Y/n’s left— holding her hand. “I love you Sunny Mitchell”, he picks up her hand, and places a kiss onto it.

Maverick moves in a puts a kiss onto your head. “Your okay Y/n— I promise we’ll be okay”, Maverick swore to you.

The numbers on the machine start to drop— a sign that death is ready to take you. Both Bradley and Maverick drag their eyes from the machine— wanting to look you instead.

You looked so peaceful as you were finally able to relax.

“Welcome home kiddo”Uncle Ice pulls you into a tight hug.

I really loved you Y/n Mitchell.

[lovebunnie]

i couldnt get anything really accomplished for this weeks prompt (clothes sharing, “i know what that smile means”, fav relationship other than hawktim) so instead im just posting all the snippets i started and didnt finish and will probably never finish <3

made for the ft valentines week by @fellow-travelers-events

It was not often that Marcus and Tim would have a night out with just the two of them. They were individuals as such that their circumstances did not usually permit those outings; Marcus was known to spend most of his time with Frankie at the club, and Tim was practically Hawkins’ shadow whenever he was let off the leash.

Marcus did not think it was his place to tell Hawk how to go about his affairs, but when he found Tim by himself one night at the Cozy Corner, he decided it was his duty to let him know what it meant to get involved with Hawkins.

Tim was sat at the bar, head propped up by one hand with the other lazily drawing patterns in the condensation on his glass. Marcus noticed the drink was half empty.

“Mind if I sit?” Marcus asked as he walked beside Tim.

After a fleeting look, Tim relaxed and allowed his shoulders to slump back down. “Yea, sure.” After a moment, his gaze did a double take. “Marcus?”

“Hey Tim, didn’t expect to see you here by yourself.” Marcus waved down a not-Frankie bartender and ordered his usual.

“I needed some space,” Tim replied sourly.

“Not a lot of people would think of a bar as a place to go for space.”

“It was either this or church.”

Marcus chuckled softly. He enjoyed Tim’s company and was fond of his wide eye naïveté, it made him a refreshing conversation partner as opposed to the seasoned politicians he was used to.

Tim’s fingers stopped and he let out a sigh not unlike an old but loyal dog. “He hasn’t called me and I’m not sure what to do.”

“Did you hope you’d catch him here?” Marcus asked.

“Not hoped…” Tim said. “More like dreaded.”

———

It was Mary who was the first to notice.

Hawk should have known better than to think he could extract himself from Tim’s arms at a normal time this morning. Seeing his Skippy sick as a dog and moping around the apartment left him feeling more clingy; he even told Tim to forget trying to survive in his dingy little place and to start healing at his place instead. Tim’s eyes had widened and his jaw dropped a bit, and Hawk could get used to a sight like that.

The fact that Hawk was getting this much enjoyment out of Tim’s sickness should have felt wrong, but he couldn’t deny the joy of having Tim near. Hawk made him dinners and got him medicine, he got to bundle Tim in his arms while in bed and fall asleep intertwined like vines. It felt right, sharing his space with Tim.

Unfortunately, when spaces mix, however, things tended to get confused in the shuffle. Case in point: Hawk was wearing Tim’s hat.

They had very similar hats, admittedly. Almost every man worth anything in DC had a wide brimmed hat in their closet almost assuredly bought from the same store. Men’s fashion among his peers, Hawk felt, could stand a refresh.

But the fact of the matter was that Hawk walked into his office wearing Tim’s hat on his head, and Mary was the first one to notice. Or atleast, the first one brave enough to mention it directly.

“Good morning Miss Johnson, Miss Addison,” Hawk said upon opening the door.

“Good morning Mr. Fuller,” Miss Addison chirped. “I had your mail placed on your desk for you to look through.”

Hawk gave her a fleeting smile and shifted his gaze to Mary, who was not looking him in the eye. “Miss Johnson?”

Her gaze snapped to his. “Yes sir, Mr. Fuller. I just remembered I had a question about your 3 pm meeting.” She gestured to his office, and Hawk held the door open for her to enter first. Following behind, he closed the door on Miss Addison’s jealous expression, mouth pinched in displeasure.

“Are you okay?” Hawk asked her as he began to take his coat off.

“You’re wearing Tim’s hat,” she replied.

It made him stop. Mary’s eyes were wide and filled with an emotion Hawk could not recognize, one that he was unused to seeing on her face.

Slowly, Hawk took the hat off from the top of his head and felt the brim, noticing the subtle shade difference. It was absolutely not a hat Hawk owned; the crudely scribbled “TL” on the inside was proof enough.

Hawk gently turned the hat around in his hands. This morning he had been in such a rush to get to work that he stumbled through the morning routine. Haphazardly, Hawk had grabbed his things and the idea that his fingers felt right in taking Tim’s hat, as though it was interchangeable with his own, gave him pause.

“I know what that smile means.”

He looked up to Mary’s gentle face. He hadn’t even been aware he had been smiling. “The one that means that this color doesn’t go with my tie?”

“The one that tells me where he is right now, who’s sheets he is currently warming.”

“A bit presumptuous, don’t you think?”

She arched her eyebrow. “The clock reads 8:09 to you too, right?”

“It’s just a hat, Mary.”

“No,” she said. “It’s not. And you know it.”

———

Marcus was tired of hospitals.

It was a sunny day when Marcus stepped through sliding doors and into the familiar corridors. It was early in the morning and even though he had class to teach later, Marcus made sure to carve out time in his day to visit friends.

After years of watching peers fall ill, if he never had to step foot in front of a receptionist office to sign a form requesting visitation access, it would be too soon. The day the nurse greeted him by name felt like an inevitable failure of some sort; helpless in the face of tragedy, no matter how many articles he published.

Frankie told him to keep the word going, to not let the death toll make his efforts feel useless. Their time together had allowed Marcus to grow softer around the edges, no longer ready to bolt. Frankie made him want to settle, to stay. He felt kept.

As Marcus cuddled him in the nights and held him close to his chest, he counted the breaths until he convinced himself Frankie was safe. He didn’t need to write novels about how paralyzing it was to think about one day losing Frankie, he didn’t need any words at all. As the days went on, Marcus found himself with more and more words to speak, a thought in his head he had to dispel. Too many years passed where he bit his tongue and now they were crawling back up his throat.

When Marcus got the news about Tim, he and Frankie ate dinner silently, once again not needing words.

Because it hurt more than anything. Over the years, he and Frankie had gotten to know much more about Tim other than his previous political endeavors and their shared history with Hawkins. There was a spitfire beneath his tender heart, righteous fury at injustice that made him close friends with Frankie. He was invited to dinner frequently and was unofficially given the title of godfather to Jerome, Tim felt more like family than his own father.

Tim was a good person, even when the world had not been kind to him. It made the news of the diagnosis hit that much harder.

“Tim called,” Frankie had said once Marcus walked through the door and hung his hat up. One look at his face and that was all that was needed.

Watching Tim slowly get worse and worse was utter agony because Tim was never one to take things lying down. He did his work from a hospital bed even when Frankie had to rip a pen from his cold hands.

“Come on, it will only take a second-“

“Tim, it's never just a second with you.”

“This is my job, I can’t just not work!”

“I’ll call the office and request a sick day for you.”

It was a sunny day when Marcus walked down the halls before work. It had been a few days since Hawk had called and showed up in San Francisco. No one expected him to stay and they certainly did not expect him to take on the caretaking role.

Marcus had known Hawk too long to be subjective about him. Hawk was selfish and a liar, he made a mess out of nice things to sate his own appetite. He saw right through his attempts at deception.

This meant that Marcus knew Hawk loved Tim before even Hawk was aware. The polygraph may have sealed the deal, but the looks he gave to Tim when he wasn’t looking were not exactly subtle.

[the-gayest-sky-kid]

Right back at you what are YOUR favourite Chuuya headcanons (and dazai)

okay so the way i draw skk is pretty inconsistent i think but...!!!!

I think its pretty apparent in most chuuyas i draw that i am a BIGGG freckle chuuya enjoyer. it's what he deserves. but also ive been picking up on dark circles/eyebags and such for him too. real and canon to the enlightened one. OH AND PIERCINGS ‼️

↑↑↑ i like doing em like this

and thennn... not really headcanon? but people are so used to anime chuuya so .... big brown eyed chuuya fan. big sienna haired chuuya fan. harukawa was right from the start... oh and i tend to floof up most characters hair when i draw them but really i do imagine his hair at least really wavy? i dont put much thought into hcs when i draw them so its not very consistent but if i made a definite guide itd be on there. wavy-curly hair

NOW AS FOR DAZAI‼️

i like giving him moles fhrhej typically i do one under his left eye and one by the right side of his mouth but occasionally I'll slip some extra in. i also like giving him eyebags... i don't think his sleep schedules the greatest. i think tend to make them darker for port mafia dazais and less obvious for ada dazai ? thats how it is in my head

...and i really like freckles okay shhhhhshshshshh but i do imagine them to be a lot fainter or non-existent when hes younger, being visible when he's older. getting more sun. but i do draw them as a lot lighter than or sparser than chuuyas, like here.

personally i think hes got dark brown hair, but a bit darker in the mafia because he doesn't take care of it often enough. had i actually been focusing on consistency id probably note like. flatter darker hair (oily) for the mafia & curly hair in the ada. curly haired dazai 🔛🔝...

NOW FOR HEADCANONS IN GENERAL (BUT SLIGHTLY MORE DAZAI IM SO SORRY HE IS ON MY MIND ALWAYS)

theyre both trans. both of them‼️ trust me. soukoku transmasc swag. their periods are synced. i think they'd use different products though tbh. dazai seems like a pads guy but i feel like chuuya would use menstrual cups mainly

chuuya should get a big splotchy birthmark. as a treat. im thinking on the side of one of his legs or smth. i think dazai should have a smaller one on his shoulder or smth.

chuuya likes his coffee black but will have something sweet with it. dazais coffee is more milk and sugar than anything

scars!!!!! on both of them!!!!!!! in particular i think corruption scars chuuya is cool + dazai having one from the scythe slash in fifteen. plus some stupid ones. dazai tripped over his shoes once and now hes got one on his knee. chuuyas got some barely noticable burn on his hand because he forgot to put on oven mitts once

dazai will twirl anything hes holding (pencils. his hair. someone elses hair) but chuuya will flip stuff (coins. pencils. his phone)

theyre both asexual. double black ace rings. if you even care

dazai needs glasses so bad his right eye is so fucked up guys. his headaches are probably the worst go take an ibuprofen dude tf.

dazai also canonically knows embroidery so i like to think its a genuine hobby

OH ALSO chuuya crochet hobby. crochet cant be done by machine. btw

[rainecreatesstuff]

ok so the post was made a month ago and i'm sure you've already gotten this ask but what's the symbolism behind the limlife clocks you made?

tbh im low on energy and I wasn’t gonna answer this but then I noticed you’ve got a d20 username and avatar so out of respect for another d20er hanging out in the mcyt fields I will.

anyways

T.I.E.S:

Tango - stopwatch. Lil reference to him running the death games in s1 and 2, also to match his general sense of urgency. Also can be used for red stone timing

Impulse - watch. Simple, practical, but has his own lil flair to it with his logo. Stays on the wrist so he doesn’t have to worry abt other people nabbing it or it getting broken, kinda symbolizes his tendency to play multiple sides to keep himself safe. Also has a day/night cycle, connecting him to Bdubs after double life

Etho - sleek, elegant design. Can be glanced at quickly to see time. Day/night cycle connecting him to Bdubs bc. They cannot be normal about each other. A small sundial bc he’s been around these parts a while and also it just feels like something he would brag about being able to read.

Skizz - forget-me-nots symbolize skizz’s loyalty to his people and his kindness to everyone. Also, as the first to lose a significant amount of time, given as a reminder to. Yknow. Remember him. Cracked after being killed twice by boogeymen in ep 1

Mean Gills:

Martyn - simple, easy to read and glance at, can be clipped to a weapon or tool so he can see it easily, imbued with his status as a follower of the listeners.

Scott - poppy in the middle to symbolize his ties to Jimmy, which keep popping up despite. Everything. A gold heart which is awarded to each of the victors. Scott’s clock originally had chains around it, put there by the Watchers/ higher beings/ whoever to prevent him from messing with his clock, broken immediately bc Scott found them annoying

Nosy Neighbours:

Pearl - locket. Unseen in drawing, but a wolf’s head is carved into the front. Phases of the moon show how much time she has left rather than numbers. A gold heart awarded to each of the victors.

BigB - cookie clock! Lighthearted and fun, shows bigb’s brand a bit, not really intense or complex, showing how bigb tends to be pretty upfront and chill throughout the games

The Clockers:

Cleo - an old clock that matches the aesthetics of the Time Witch from wcsmp. The inner mechanisms are visible to represent how she usually plays with all her cards on the table, and is very upfront with her allegiances and her reasonings etc. elegant and a bit imposing.

Bdubs - a busted-up clock that doesn’t work anymore. Or, well, the inner mechanisms work. It ticks. Nobody can see how much time is left though. Chipped and cracked from the last three games. Blood from first boogey kill.

Scar - an hourglass with a dark oak border. Can’t have a scar clock and not put desert duo in it. Anyways, not only does the sand represent Scar’s permanent ties to the desert, it also is a very clear visual, meaning Scar doesn’t have to worry about accidentally jumbling numbers when reading his time (dyslexia is a bitch)

The Bad Boys:

Joel - Two ruby eyes representing the red that is always in Joel, no matter his colour, as well as acting as a small nod to his wolves in 3rd life. The hands are dagger-shaped, but round at the ends (he is scary but also a wet cat. If you are loyal to him he will not so much as scratch you). Scorched from Bad Boy Actions in ep 1

Jimmy - canary wings going round and round, cyclically. A cage that should open; it has hinges. Jimmy cannot open it yet. (If someone else dies first, he might be able to) also scorched from Bad Boy Actions

Grian - they will not let him forget he is not meant to be there. He has to concentrate to keep his clock at the right time- its hands will spin wildly (sometimes even going backwards, giving him more time) if he doesn’t keep an eye on it. Three hearts to remind him that he created the games. A gold heart awarded to each of the victors. Not shown, but two winged-shapes on hinges close over the clock face to shield it from other’s’ view.

[rain-ghoul-appreciator]

✺ i cannot fix your wounds this time ✺

tw for death/murder, blood, and injuries

day 4: wound tending/first aid

pairing: alpha/omega (i love making my favorite old men suffer)

also he/they omega cause i said so

under the cut or on AO3

"you don't have to do this, you know that right?" 

omega looked up at the scarred face of their mate. never before had they seen him so quiet, so small, and most of all, so scared. he set down the bandages in his hands and gently cupped alpha's face in their hands.

"but i want to, i want to help you." 

"im a monster, megs! you saw what i did!" omega sighed and picked the bandages back up.

"you're not a monster, love, you were just scared, and- and-"

"you don't understand, i killed that girl! her blood is on my hands now!"

"alpha."

"i can still hear her screaming! i killed her, megs!"

"alpha!" 

alpha paused, staring down at the nasty gash on his arm.

"look at me, sparky, please." hesitantly, alpha looked up at omega through glassy eyes. "this wasn't your fault."

"but it was, i-"

"alpha." he fell silent again, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood. omega sighed again, wrapping the bandages around the cut on their mate's arm. 

"im sorry," alpha whispered, voice shaking with every word. 

"don't apologize," omega insisted, "this wasn't your fault, okay? you were scared and thought you were doing the right thing, so don't you dare try and drag yourself down over this." omega secured the bandage onto alpha's arm mere seconds before the fire ghoul broke down. they gently wove their fingers into his hair, running his thumb over his scalp.

minutes later, silence once again fell over the room. omega held their mate close, savoring the touch they knew could probably be the last. as if to confirm his worries, alpha spoke up.

"they're sending me back," he muttered. omega squeezed him a little tighter. "they say i can't be trusted anymore, cause i killed her." more tears welled up in his eyes.

"calm down, sparky, please," omega begged, pressing a long kiss to the top of alpha's head. "it's going to be okay."

"i'm going back to the pit, megs, how is that okay?" alpha's voice shook with every word, threatening to break once again.

"i..." omega paused, shaking their head. "i don't know." a tear slipped down his face. 

"what are we going to do?" alpha whispered, gripping onto the back of omega's shirt. 

"let's not think about it for now, okay?" alpha nodded as omega pressed a kiss to the small cut above his eyebrow. "sit up for me, please?" slowly, alpha pulled himself away from omega's embrace, holding out his injured hand before omega could even ask. it fell quiet once again.

omega ran his thumb over the bruised and bloody knuckles of his mate's hand. it took everything in him to not break down right there as they pumped quintessence into the wounds. they could feel alpha shaking, hear him trying to keep it together. a sharp pang of hurt went through their chest. 

"all done," they murmured, bringing alpha's hand up to their lips as a tear slipped down their cheek. the two sat still for a moment before collapsing into each other. both sobbed, the grief of it all hanging above them like a thick storm cloud.

eventually, they moved to the bed, tangled together like knotted hair. alpha tucked his head into omega's chest, breathing in the scent of his mate.

"promise you'll come and find me?" 

"i promise."

"i love you, megs, till the end of time."

"i love you too, sparky, more than you could ever imagine."

when omega awoke in the morning, all that was left was the tear stained sheets and the lingering scent of their mate.